


The Fire Burns (I'm Not the One with the Matchstick)

by Tory_The_Kitteh



Series: The Things We Lost in the Fire [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bigotry & Prejudice, Damian Wayne Feels, F/M, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Light Angst, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape Aftermath, Victim Blaming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-24 16:04:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10745055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tory_The_Kitteh/pseuds/Tory_The_Kitteh
Summary: Ra's al Ghul desired an heir, be it from his daughter or grandson. He also desired Timothy. So he made plans to procure both.This is the aftermath wherein assumptions are made, lies are told, and nobody is dealing well…





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I was gonna wait till I had a little more written for this before posting it here, but...the latest chapter isn't coming along all that well and I need some inspiration. So yeah, let me know what you think.

It was the smell; Damian just could not stand it.

That sickly sweet fragrance permeated the air, heavy and sticky, not unlike the alluring perfume emanated by an exotic plant in order to ensnare its prey.

He scrubbed hard at his neck, his chest, his arms, at every inch of skin within his reach; he scrubbed his flesh until it was a raw, angry red. He scrubbed until he _bled_. Then he paused to watch the red-stained, soapy water gurgle down the drain.

For a moment he let the scalding water rush over him, allowed the pressure and heat to soothe his aching muscles and irritate his wounds. Only when he breathed did the brief moment of reprieve shatter. Gritting his teeth he grabbed the soap, lathered it viciously over himself and began scrubbing once more.

The smell remained. No matter how long or how hard he scrubbed.

Beneath the soap, beneath the water, he could still detect that distinctive, oppressing scent. He could still smell _Him_.

The scent was everywhere, on his skin, soaked into every pore, in his mouth, his lips, his tongue… He gagged. Spat. Took a mouthful of soapy water. Gargled and spat again.

Bile rose in his throat, and he tried to swallow it back down. Surely there was nothing left in his stomach to throw up anymore. He sucked in several shallow measured breathes, clutching at the tiled wall for support while his knees shook under him.

He was fine.

It was just the smell. If he could just wash away this damned scent then he will be fine again. There was no reason to feel this way; he was stronger than this.

_Not strong enough to defend yourself when it matters._ A voice whispered jeeringly from the back of his mind.

He shoved the thought away with a growl. There was nothing to fear. He’d done nothing wrong. What happened was only natural, inevitable even. There was no reason to dwell on it. The memory would fade along with everything else, and then everything would go back to normal.

He just needed to wash off this smell… Just had to wash it off…

Once more, Damian snatched up the soap and began scrubbing at his raw, bleeding skin.

…………………………

The sun had long since risen by the time Damian emerged from the bathroom, clad in nothing but a towel around his waist.

The clothes he torn off himself earlier remained were they had fallen on the floor. Pennyworth usually made a point of rousing Damian, and any other member of his Father’s pack that happen to be occupying the Manor at the time, for as he termed it a “family breakfast”. Perhaps he was still preoccupied with other matters. Perhaps he would not visit Damian’s room at all today.

Damian did not know if he was pleased or disturbed by this change in routine.

At present though, he wished to be alone and would not take kindly to being disturbed, even by Pennyworth. Breakfast was not a pleasing notion at the moment either as his stomach had not yet settled; even less so when considering the company he’d likely be forced to endure.

The bottled water and protein bars he had stored in his closet would be a sufficient form of sustenance should his appetite return.

The clothes on the floor reeked of that disgusting scent. Wrinkling his nose, he snatched up the filthy garments and tossed them into the hamper, along with his towel, and then rifled through his draws for fresh clothes.

Up until this point he had not had a problem with Pennyworth’s choice of detergent. Each item he gave a cursory sniff only to find that any and all human scent had been cleansed away and replaced with an artificial citrus scent. What he had come to consider a somewhat pleasant scent was now a source of irritation.

Eventually, he settled on set of workout clothes that had apparently been thoroughly and repeatedly soaked in his own sweat that his scent had not washed away.

Once dressed he made a quick circuit of his room, tidying up his art supplies, rearranging his books, touching every surface, reaffirming his territory. The motions were soothing in a way, almost meditative and he let his mind fall blank.

Three times he checked the door was locked before falling gracelessly onto his bed. The sheets were unwashed, but for once he found he didn’t care.

His own scent was a comfort and he indulged the urge to rub his face into the pillows, to cocoon himself beneath the covers until he was surrounded in it.

He had not had a sufficient amount of sleep in the last seventy two hours. It was only appropriate that he should rest now in order to let his mind return to an optimum level of performance. Surely Father would not mind he spare only a few hours.

He shifted to a more comfortable position, one that didn’t aggravate his wounds, and breathed in his own smell, allowing himself to relax and drift off into a light slumber. The strong alpha musk was enough to smother that horrible thick scent of omega he had failed to completely remove in the shower.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's an early chapter, since I managed to get quite a bit written today. Thanks for the support guys! As for what's happening in the first chapter, you'll just have to read and find out~ ^^
> 
> I don't think it qualifies as a tag, but there is kind of an Unreliable Narrator for some of the chapters.

Stephanie hated being left out of the loop; especially when it came to her idiot not-quite-boyfriend. (It was hard to tell where they stood in their relationship at the moment.)

Seriously though, why wasn’t anybody telling her anything? You’d think that Red Robin and the Brat Wonder being kidnapped by ninja assassins would be important enough to get her a phone call at least! But no! She only finds out days later when ranting at Oracle about Tim not answering his phone.

It would be kind of hard to answer the phone when you’re off being kidnapped by ninjas. (The weirdest part about that sentence is the fact that being kidnapped by ninjas isn’t even the strangest thing that’s happened to them. When did this become her life?)

Oh but let’s not bother to tell poor Steph anything. It’s not like she would be sitting at home worrying about her maybe-boyfriend not talking to her, only to find out he was stolen by ninjas and she can’t even do anything but wait around uselessly at home while the big bad Batman went off to rescue him.

And they couldn’t even let her know what was happening or even when everyone made it home!?

It’s just ridiculous! She’s been waiting to hear something for ages and when she finally gets something out of Barbara it’s: “They’re already back.” For almost a full day too! Unbelievable!

And to make matters worse, Tim really is ignoring her calls now. After making her worry he’s not even going to let her know if he’s okay! Nope. Not happening.

If a girl wants answers, she’s got to get them herself!

Which is how she winds up sneaking around the back of Wayne Manor, hoping the big boss is still down in his cave.

“Good afternoon Miss Brown. May I inquire as to why you are consorting with the hydrangeas?”

“Alfred!” She yelped spinning around to find herself faced with the butler’s patented raised eyebrow, “Hi Alfred! Hello, uh…” Okay, maybe this wasn’t her best idea.

Alfred remained as nonchalant as always in response to her awkward fumbling, “You are here to see Master Tim I take it?”

“Uh, yes, I am.”

“Might I suggest you try the front door next time?”

Stephanie could only manage a nervous laugh as she was led inside through the kitchen entrance.

Being a beta she couldn’t read scents the way alphas or omegas could, but even so she’d have to be completely scent blind to miss the smell of distressed omega that lead down the hallway.

Of course, Tim’s scent was always very strong with him being a high level omega. Her own scent she knew to have a similar sweetness to it, due to her being a low level beta – meaning she was closer on the spectrum to omega than alpha – but his thick scent always smothered hers. Even now it overpowered Bruce’s territorial alpha musk that stuck to the walls of the manor.

“Are Tim and the br—ah, Damian okay?” She asked, wincing at the slip.

It was always hard to tell with Alfred, but he seemed rather tense. “Both of them have sustained minor wounds. Physically, they will be fine.”

Just _physically_ fine, huh? “I’m sensing there’s a ‘but’ in there somewhere.”

This time when he looked at her, she could see visible lines of weariness and his voice was incredibly somber, “The young masters have been through quite the ordeal.” He paused, apparently choosing his next words very carefully. “They were both heavily drugged—”

“As if that excuses what he did!”

Stephanie nearly jumped out of her skin at the angry growl. God she hated when they did the ninja thing.

“Master Jason.” Alfred sighed, expression somewhere between stern and exasperated.

It was easy to mistake Jason Todd for an alpha, but truth was he’s a beta. Not a high level one with more alpha in him then omega, nope, he was mid level beta; like Alfred he stood almost perfectly in the centre of the sexual caste spectrum.

And yet he was probably the most alpha-ish beta she’d ever met. He stood with his shoulders hunched, had a growl in his voice, bared his teeth more often than was necessary. But then again, the most she ever saw of him was out on the streets as Spoiler and the Red Hood, and everyone thought the Red Hood was an alpha anyways.

Maybe he just got so good at playing the part he forgot how to stop.

“So,” She started, hoping to steer the conversation back on track, “What’s happened with Tim?”

Jason’s face darkened and Alfred had that somber look again. “Perhaps it is best if you see How Master Tim is yourself.”

“O-okay…” She was definitely missing something here. Ugh, this is why she hates being left out of the loop; the tension was killing her!

Once more Alfred led her down the hall, with Jason following along behind them grumbling under his breath. Even with Tim’s heavy scent everywhere she could detect the scent of an unfamiliar alpha.

Belatedly she realized it must be Damian, who had presented, to absolutely no one’s surprise, as a high level alpha only a few months ago. She hadn’t met him outside of patrol since then, and all the bats used some pretty heavy duty scent blockers. Except her, though she wasn’t sure if she was technically even counted as being part of the “Bat-Clan”.

Pretty much everyone knew Spoiler was a beta anyway.

By the time they reached Tim’s room Stephanie could practically taste the tension running off the two betas. Dread was beginning to build up in the pit of her stomach. What could be so bad to warrant all this secrecy? A lot of things come to mind actually…

Alfred stepped aside with a nod of encouragement and went on his way. Jason remained leaning up against the wall beside the door.

Hesitantly she knocked, “Hey Tim, its Steph.”

No answer.

After a moment’s thought she tested the doorknob. It was unlocked. That was probably a good sign.

“I’m coming in okay?” She waited for Jason to stop her, and when he didn’t move she pushed the door open.

Tim was lying on his bed with his back to her. He didn’t respond at all to her approach, and she thought he might actually be asleep, if not for the obvious twitch when she sat down on the bed. She leaned over to see his eyes wide open, staring vacantly at the wall.

It was then, as she sucked in a breath to speak that she smelt it. Or rather, she smelt him.

Tim’s scent had changed, had lost that strong alluring edge to it, and there was the faint trace of alpha mingling with omega. The same alpha scent she had detected in the hallway.

The dread she’d been feeling before came back full force. Biting her lip she gently grasped the edges of the covers. “Can I see?” She whispered. Once again he didn’t respond, but made no move to stop her from pulling back the covers.

The mark on his neck was ugly, purple and swollen; a violent claiming mark.

Tim was bonded. He had a Mate Bond. A Mate Bond with…with Damian. God, that’s fucked up. Stephanie couldn’t tell if she wanted to yell, laugh, or cry.

It seemed their complicated on again off again relationship was about to get even harder to navigate…


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was gonna wait until I had another chapter written, but, meh... This is the last of the chapters I've already written, so updates are likely going to slow down considerably from now on. I'll try to post weekly at least though.

“This is so messed up.”

“You’ve said that already!”

“That’s because it IS messed up! Damian’s like twelve!”

“He’s fourteen!”

“Like that makes a difference!”

“He’s an alpha, he’s old enough!”

Jason and Steph had been doing this for the better part of an hour. Tim wished they’d just shut up, or at least have to decency to move their argument away from his door.

He wished they’d all leave him alone. He wished they’d stop asking him if he was okay. Of course he wasn’t okay. How could he be okay? This was like living in his worst nightmare. How could this have happened?

_What are you doing!? Get off me!_

He shuddered and curled in on himself. The memory of the past few days haunted him, leaving a bad taste in his mouth.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair.

He repeated the mantra over and over in his head. As if it would change anything. As if anything in his life up until now was _fair_. What’s done is done and now he was stuck with this wretched bond.

Out in the hall Jason started yelling again. ‘Shut up’, Tim thought, ‘you’re giving me a headache.’

_Stop! I don’t want to!_

His neck stung where it had been bitten. Everyone had a scent gland on their neck, but only an omega’s gland could be bitten and marked. The hormone induced saliva alphas produced was specifically for biting and marking an omega’s gland.

Though there was nothing to suggest omegas actually received anything from the bite other than the mark, this was how an alpha received hormones from the omega. An omega could receive hormones from an alpha through various means, through kissing, skin on skin contact, or sexual intercourse. 

It was through this exchange of hormones that a mate bond was formed. The bite itself was merely visible evidence of an existing bond, or the intention to bond. Usually it takes months for bonds to form and it needs to be maintained through biting, physical contact and/or sexual activity.

_I said stop! You’re just giving him what he wants!_

Despite himself, Tim couldn’t help but wonder what kind of drug Ra’s had used on them to force the bond to form so quickly. He’d heard of these kinds of illegal drugs before, but never actually encountered them.

There was a reason those drugs were illegal, and not just because they often used to force unwilling victims into a non-consensual bond. They were incredibly dangerous, sometimes even deadly. And it could have lasting effects on the bond itself.

Tim had never been bonded before, but even he could tell this felt wrong.

For one thing the bite shouldn’t be throbbing the way it did, and it looked horrible. He’s overheard Leslie talking with Bruce and Alfred about it. She was concerned he was having a bad reaction to the drug.

She may be right, but then again, Tim had never been bitten before. Supposedly it always hurt and would look pretty bad the first time.

It wasn’t fair. It was his first bite, he’d been saving it, and now even that was taken from him.

_Please stop..._

His head, his neck, all the bruises and scrapes across his body ached. He curled into a tighter ball, snuggled deeper into his nest. He was home, in the safety of his den, yet these cursed memories wouldn’t leave him be.

There was a crash and more yelling. What were they even doing out there?

Where was Alfred? Or Bruce for that matter? Why weren’t either of them coming down here to shut everyone up?

  _No... Please Drake—Tim. I don’t want to._

His voice had been so small, so pitiful; so different from everything he’d known of the Demon Spawn up until now. One might almost believe he was an actual child.

But he wasn’t. He was an assassin, a killer at his core. An alpha, arrogant, selfish, the perfect paragon of everything bad anyone ever had to say about alphas.

He would never change. The brat had proven as much in the short time he had presented.

_Drake...please...stop..._

“It’s not my fault.” He whispered aloud as if in answer.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t his fault. It was Damian’s. His fault for being an alpha, for being related to Ra’s al Ghul, for forcing them into that situation in the first place! If not for Damian none of this would have happened.

“It’s not my fault.” He muttered into his pillow. Squeezing his eyes shut he repeated it over and over again. “It’s not my fault. It’s not my fault. It’s not my fault.”

Maybe if he said it enough times it would become true. Maybe if it became truth he would stop hearing those weak, pitiful sobs echoing in head.


End file.
